Fairhaven High School - Huttlestonian Yearbook (Fairhaven, MA)

Page 17 text:

THE HUTTLESTONIAN 15 A Pot-Pourri T HE Senior Dance is over. The view from the front of the High School arrests us, homeward bound. The new moon shines — lights gleam on the bridge and on the opposite bank of the river! Never before had we noticed the wonderful site of our school! The monument with its di¬ recting light bespeaks our benefactor. The “Gym” looked the best ever at the Sophomore afternoon party. The committee surely deserves praise. The party also has the distinction of having the most notable event of the year occur during its progress. It happened at the beginning of a Leap Year Dance. One of the male mem¬ bers of the faculty was asked the honor of the dance by a Sophomore girl. A most tragic thing happened to the Seniors. They had chosen Bachrach as their official photographer. Several days later, Oki Seizo, the newest and most fashionable in his line, made them an offer. The fame of Fairhaven girls in athletics has spread far and wide. So much so that Miss French, Physical Director of the State, felt that she must come down from Boston to look them over. Our boys made rather a good showing at the Boston Indoor Track Meet,—considerably better than the boys across the river. Why do we always feel so well satisfied with ourselves when we outdo New Bedford ? The Senior Play is over—but the bills are still coming in! The play went off very well and was given an exceedingly favorable write-up in the newspapers. Miss Trowbridge has promised us a very interesting program for (Concluded on Page 28)

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14 THE HUTTLESTONIAN The Rainbow “What is a rainbow, my child? And what does it mean to you?” “ ’Tis a bright-colored arch set high in the sky, Of red, and yellow, and blue.” “What is a rainbow, man? And what does it mean to you?” “ ’Tis the promise of God, which all through the years, Will forever and ever hold true.” ELIZABETH S. SHERMAN, ’24. The Dream The Dream Lady dwells in the silver moon, With the sky for a deep blue sea, She does up the bundles of pleasant dreams, And drops them to you and to ' me. Slumber dream-fancies last not forever, They fade at the dawn of the day, And all fairy queens and all princely charms On airy wings vanish away. But as soon as the night draws her curtain, And the silver moon sails the sea, The Dream Lady does up her pleasant dreams, And drops them to you and to me. ELIZABETH S. SHERMAN, ’24.

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16 THE HUTTLESTONIAN My Remembrances of Porto Rico S EVEN hundred and fifty miles southeast of Havana, Cuba, on the northern boundary of the Carribean Sea, is the island of Porto Rico. The island, although only eighty by forty miles in area, (about the same acreage as Long Island, N. Y.), is one of the most densely populated in the world, having a population of more than one million, two hundred and fifty thousand inhabitants. Of these the majority are black and mulatto, composed mostly of peons, who are the toilers of the fields, a machette frequently being the only implement they understand the use of. Although the blood of dif¬ ferent classes mingles freely in their veins, they are on the whole an orderly, industrious, considerate people, anxious to acquire American ways. The peon’s home is a rude hut or shack with mere holes to furnish light; as there is no cold weather, real windows and sashes are needless. The floor is uneven and unsteady. A ham¬ mock, a bunk, or a pile of palm branches for a bed, and boxes for chairs, complete the furnishings for these shacks. An iron kettle or some discarded tin cans are the only utensils for cooking which is done mainly out of doors. The food of these people consists of rice and beans, “toites”, plantains, and coarse vegetables. Their cloth¬ ing is cheap and scanty. Many little children go naked, and few ever wear shoes. The white population is comprised of the owners of large “tineas”, or plantations, producing sugar, coffee, and tobacco. Some of these men are interested also in sugar centrales, of which the second largest in the world is located at Guanica, Porto Rico. There are many thousand Americans, located mostly in the San Juan districts, who have followed the flag, and have made large investments in “fincas” devoted exclusively to the cultivation of grape fruits and oranges. The homes of these well-to-do people are very comfortable. The long double windows of the houses reach to the floor, and usually stand wide open. The floors are bare except for an occasional small rug. There is no upholstered furniture to be seen, and a marble topped table in the middle of the “sals” or living room is very char¬ acteristic. One of my earliest impressions during my life on the island is the market. There the fruit venders carry on their heads great wil¬ low trays of fruits, piled high with luscious yellow and copper-colored